For What She’s Worth

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Fallen, but not discarded.

Her value lies not in her

ability to contain

her chaos within set seams,

clutch remnants when brute tidal

waves beat against her dormers,

but in her audacity

to bloom down in the trenches.

 

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Following Suit

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What makes you

dare to bloom after

one day of

sunshine

when you’ve been

in prison for

so long?

Will you bottle

whatever runs in

audacity’s veins

so I

may follow

 suit?